Aguilar saw the Moor-chief with the fortitude of a noble heart, and rising superior to his adverse fortune, although covered with wounds, and fainting from exhaustion, he sprung forward to meet the advance of his terrible adversary, whilst the Moors awed by the meeting of such warriors, stood around in breathless silence.
The mighty foes closed in desperate combat. But soon Aguilar conscious of his weakness, retired to his original position against the rock, and in that posture sustained the attack. The fresh and unabated force of El Feri became too powerful for the Christian chief, worn out as he was with the loss of blood, and the fatigue of many hours of battle. Aguilar now perceived that to die nobly was the only alternative he could embrace, and accordingly grasping firmly the banner, he continued a resolute but unequal combat. His exhaustion, however, increased, and as he perceived his end approach, he sprang forward, and with one desperate blow, in which he collected his remaining energies, endeavoured to crush his enemy. But the exertion far exceeded his strength, and the same blow that an hour before would have cloven through buckler and hauberk, now fell almost harmless upon the shield of El Feri. The Moor availed himself of the moment, and before Aguilar had time to recover, the scymitar of his foe had cleft through the helmet of Don Alonso, and sunk deep into the brain. The hero fell; with one deep sigh his noble spirit parted from its clay, and the brave, the generous, the heroic Don Alonso de Aguilar was no more![45]
A tremendous shout from the exulting Moors announced the catastrophe to the Christians below: it sounded through the mountain like the ferocious yell of demons revelling over their victim. El Feri stood silent for a moment gazing on his prostrate enemy, and he could not but contemplate with veneration and awe that form which even in death preserved the nobleness and dignity which had distinguished it through life. His helmet had given way, and rolled to some distance on the plain. His black hair silvered with age, and now dripping with his blood, overshaded part of his noble countenance. Shorn of its proud device, his broken shield lay on his left arm, as well as the remains of the banner which he had sworn to defend with his life, whilst his right arm still retained that sword once the terror of the Moors, now lying harmless on the ground. Thus fell Aguilar, and the exulting Moors flocked round his corpse, led by an instinctive curiosity to behold the prostrate warrior so long the object of their dread.
CHAPTER VI.
Inter their bodies as becomes their births:
Shakespeare.
Few, few shall part where many meet,
* * * * *
And every turf beneath their feet
Shall be a soldier's sepulchre.
T. Campbell.
The victory of the Moors was complete; and as they had been long accustomed to reverses, so unusual a success elated them beyond all bounds of moderation. They considered their independence as now firmly established, and could scarcely be restrained from rushing, like a disorderly horde of conquering barbarians, on their enemies below, and ravaging the country round. But fortunately El Feri joined to great courage and activity the rare endowments of a prudent and sagacious chief. He foresaw that the present success, if not followed up judiciously, would prove more prejudicial than favorable to their cause. It was not by a confused depredatory system that this first victory should be followed up; for their cause could only be ultimately benefited by improving their present advantages. Besides, the fierce courage of his followers, arising rather from a sense of injuries and revenge, than real military bravery, was ill calculated to sustain the superior numbers and better disciplined bands of the Christians. Nor could El Feri be so far dazzled by one solitary success as to attribute solely to their conduct and courage that result which was chiefly to be ascribed to the advantages of their position, combined with a series of fortunate circumstances that had assisted them against the Christians. He knew that the intelligence of this victory would excite those of his countrymen who were as yet lukewarm in the cause, to take up arms and repair to that mountain which was now the cradle in which their infant liberty was to be rocked. He wished to preserve and improve this situation without risking the danger of another action, until he possessed ample means of insuring success. A precipitate movement now might involve the Moors in difficulties capable not only of retarding their triumph, but even of rendering fruitless the effects of a first victory: Gomez Arias was likewise marching with a powerful army, and it would be madness to abandon the strong hold of the Sierra for the sake of hazarding an encounter, when as yet they were in all respects inferior to their enemies.
El Feri, therefore, strongly deprecated the design formed by Mohabed of advancing at present against the Spaniards. But Mohabed, flushed with pride and little conversant with military affairs, could only be prevailed upon to defer his sally from the mountain for two days; and El Feri, considering the baneful effects which any disagreement amongst the chief leaders might produce, prudently acquiesced in his decision. He hoped that in the meantime he should have an opportunity either of dissuading his brother chief, or at least of organising a more systematic and powerful invasion.
Whilst the best warrior in the Moorish ranks was deeply interested in forwarding their views, his disorderly and savage followers were affording proofs of their wanton cruelty and insubordination. El Feri saw with disgust and sorrow, that the men he led to the field adhered not to the principles which they pretended to profess. He perceived that his army more resembled a horde of undisciplined barbarians than true and sincere patriots; that the gratification of private animosity and revenge had a far greater preponderance in directing their exertions, than the heroic impulses of noble enthusiasm and public spirit. He had been himself stimulated to take up arms solely by pure and patriotic sentiments, without the least alloy of personal interest, or the indulgence of a revengeful disposition. He, therefore, bitterly lamented, for the sake of his country, when a secret voice whispered to him, that he was less the leader of independent men, panting for liberty, than of a lawless discontented rabble, better deserving the name of rebels than that of liberators. Alas! how often is the lustre of a good cause darkened by the private interests and vices of its agents!
The attention of El Feri was however diverted towards a tumult in that part of the mountain where the mighty Aguilar had fallen: he hurried to the spot to inquire into the cause of the commotion, when he saw the noble form of his redoubtable foe ignominiously placed on an eminence, round which men, women, and children were crowding, to glut their eyes with the bleeding spectacle. While their savage disposition was gladdened with the sight, they heaped maledictions on the dead. This dastardly ebullition of revenge was more particularly displayed by the weaker portion of men, and by the refuse of women. Women, fashioned by nature to indulge every kindly feeling, and tender sentiment of compassion for the fallen—women, when they have overstepped the barriers of their natural delicacy, become more lawless and cruel than the most hardened of men. An old hag was, with wanton mockery, striving to close the eyes of the warrior; another was trampling under her foot the cross which she had wrenched from his breast; and a dirty urchin was rending his venerable locks, whilst some miscreants, not satisfied with these profanations, in base revenge plunged their weapons into the lifeless clay. But still there were some whom the great Aguilar inspired with terrors even in death, and they shrunk from the inanimate corpse, as if it were ready to start into life, and wreak vengeance for the outrages sustained. Flushed with indignation at the sight, El Feri soon dispersed the vile and motley crowd.